


The Story of Tonight

by JoanofArc



Series: Tumblr Drabbles & Ficlets [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, IT'S THE HAPPY AU THEY DESERVE, Modern AU, coffee shop AU, gratuitous fluff, i.. have no idea how to tag can u tell, there are so few modern aus for this ship we need MORE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 21:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14387328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoanofArc/pseuds/JoanofArc
Summary: “C’mon, Kryze, live a little!” A nudge in her side tells her that the interaction wasn’t lost to Ahsoka. From the way Pretty Boy’s friend almost chokes on his coffee in an attempt to say something to him, and the glare he gets in return, she is pretty sure it didn’t go unnoticed on his side either. Still, she has a paper to write and Professor Palpatine is glaring at her from over the rim of his cup, which makes him look even more frog-like than usually.





	The Story of Tonight

She’s struggling through college, a last ‘fuck you’ to her parents and her posh background – they had offered to pay for her tuition, of course, but Satine knows that once she falls down that rabbit hole, there is no way she can be free from their constant guilt-tripping and, after all, Bo did it. That Bo joining the military against their father’s wishes and her own choice of studying politics instead of inheriting the family business are essentially on opposing sides of the spectrum didn’t seem much of a problem when she decided to run off to America.

_It does now_. Even with the scholarship she had worked her ass off to get, everything is still so expensive.

Yet she is petty and headstrong and utterly refuses to call her dad back just to hear his ‘I told you so.’ Which led to the current predicament.

Working in the café isn’t half as bad as people make it to be. Since it is conveniently located close to the campus, there is a steady stream of customers throughout the day and the manager is nice. Or, as nice as a balding man in his late thirties can be; Dexter, or Dex, which he had insisted she call him, is cheerful and overly friendly, ready to take over whenever Satine feels overwhelmed with schoolwork (which is never: she needs the money), but otherwise remains generally absent during the day. What he does after her shift, she’s not sure she wants to know.

Rush hours are hard – there is only one other employee to help along during Satine's working hours. Even so, the coffee shop is small enough for them not to get overwhelmed.

Ahsoka, the other employee, is a small girl, barely sixteen but ‘wiser beyond her years’, as she had told Satine upon introduction. Yet she has a presence that is hard to ignore and a positive attitude which can make even the most sleep-deprived, depressed student crack a smile.

Satine found out soon she quite likes Ahsoka, from the way the young girl latched onto her within the first ten minutes of knowing one another, to her dedication and stubbornness.

Bottom line, working in the café is not bad at all, but she’s sure that she won’t be able to drink fancy coffee ever again, even if making a triple, venti, half sweet, non-fat caramel macchiato comes almost naturally at this point.               

*

“He’s been staring at you,” Ahsoka’s bubbly voice breaks through her concentration. Satine looks up from the textbook she had stuffed under the counter to read between orders and sure enough, Professor Palpatine is looking straight at her. Their eyes meet and she feels a shiver run down her spine, the oily tinge of his personality reaching her even across the room.

He doesn’t like her, for some reason. Most professors do; she is the perfect student, always getting her assignments done on time, showing up to every class prepared and ready to learn. He, on the other hand, nitpicks her essays to the smallest of mistakes, counting commas and shutting her down whenever she tries to participate in the lecture.

She doesn’t really mind, seeing how she’s not so fond of him either. His teaching style is outdated and he does not believe in global warming, which raises red flags as soon as she hears about it, and he picks favourites way too easily. Yet he comes to the café every Monday and Wednesday, claiming the table closest to the exit and always ordering a coffee with no milk and no sugar. ‘Dark like his soul’ – Ahsoka’s snide commentary. She might have snorted at that, something they have agreed never to bring up in public conversation. They’re pretty sure Professor Palpatine is head of a criminal ring in his spare time.

“I know. He always does.”

“Jesus, no! Gross. Not _him_. Pretty boy to the left. Came in with the loud one. He’s been trying to be subtle but nothing can get past me.”

From her peripheral vision, Satine can see Ahsoka’s cheeky grin, the suggestive wiggling of her eyebrows. She laughs, waving her off. If ‘pretty boy’ wants to talk, he will talk. She has no time to chase after romance and anyway, finals are approaching.

The rebuff does not stop her from flitting her gaze towards the table in question… right in time to lock eyes with the enigmatic dude.

Her heart stutters.

He blushes.

He… _blushes_?

He is cute, especially flustered. Auburn hair, blazing blue eyes and a neatly trimmed… _beard_. Satine had never really been a fan of beards. There’s a repressed memory that’s more horror story of an ex with a beard and an uncomfortable trip to the hospital that puts beards on the list of traits she does not find attractive. For him, she thinks, which comes as a surprise, she might reconsider.

“C’mon, Kryze, live a little!” A nudge in her side tells her that the interaction wasn’t lost to Ahsoka. From the way Pretty Boy’s friend almost chokes on his coffee in an attempt to say something to him, and the glare he gets in return, she is pretty sure it didn’t go unnoticed on his side either. Still, she has a paper to write and Professor Palpatine is glaring at her from over the rim of his cup, which makes him look even more frog-like than usually.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Soka. And there’s a customer that’s been waiting for you for the past three minutes.”

Satine goes back to studying, but in all honesty, concentration is lost. It’s totally because the two guys at the table are talking quite loudly (or rather, Pretty Boy’s friend is), or so she tells herself. Gentrification is an important subject and Ahsoka’s lewd gestures are not enough to deter her from reading ahead.

“Hey.”

There should be a limit to the times people can startle someone in a day – because she jumps at the new voice, ignoring her friend’s muffled snicker and managing to simultaneously drop the heavy textbook on the floor with a loud bang and almost knock over the venti-whatever drink she had been in the process of figuring out for the blonde sucking face with her boyfriend on the thorn sofa by the window.

Satine sees his fingers first. One hand steadying her by the arm, the other keeping the drink from spilling. They’re nice fingers, rough and calloused and long, the kind of fingers a pianist would have. When she looks up, his eyes are, indeed, strikingly blue.

“So sorry, I swear I’m usually more coordinated. And eloquent. And less prone to spill things.” A nervous laugh. Is she nervous? Well, Pretty Boy’s hand is still around her arm and he looks almost as started as her by the verbal barrage. Ahsoka, who had been chatting animatedly with The Loud Friend is positively having a fit. To make matters worse, Palpatine does that clearing the throat thing all old people do when they’re annoyed and want to reprimand the young ones without actually doing it. On the plus side, she’s not blushing. It’s only very hot.

He lets go of her and she immediately misses his warmth. The fine hairs on her arm stand on end, as if shocked by electricity and she swears she can see him looking down at his hand for a second, incredulity tinting his otherwise warm expression.

“Please don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have started you.” He doesn’t look like the kind of guy to be shy, and really, he’s not. But there’s something about him that draws Satine closer, a quietness she cannot understand, hidden in the pleasant rumble of his voice. His smirk counters the blush she had spotted earlier.

“Look, thing is Anakin…” He takes a moment to jab a thumb at the friend who is trying to look casual sitting next to Ahsoka, while definitely listening in on their conversation, “told me that if I don’t come and talk to you, he will and that’s never a good sign given his fondness of embarrassing me but… he’s got a point actually. ”

Satine feels like she had regained her footing. She was always good at flirting, it’s just been a very long while since she had concentrated on anything but studying, but maybe Ahsoka, not unlike Pretty Boy’s friend, is right. She smiles her most charming smile, tilts her head to look at him from beneath long lashes.

“The point being?”

“We’re in the same Global Dimensions class, but you’re always so focused on the class and I never actually tried to start conversation. So hi,” their hands touch and she feels the same current run through her veins, even with the briefest, most cordial of squeezes. “I’m Ben. And I disagree with your point of view regarding armies.”

Satine laughs. A real laugh, the kind that lights her whole face and makes her shoulders shake, and Ben swears he had never seen anything so beautiful in his whole life.

“Well then, Ben… How about you pick me up tomorrow after class and we can discuss this at length? I get off at four, but I’ll tell you to come get me at five and a half so I can indulge into making myself pretty while denying the effort altogether.”

Ben chuckles, a deep sound coming from his chest and Satine feels her heart stutter once more, a warm feeling settling all over her despite the A/C blazing at the back of her skull. She turns her head just in time to see Ahsoka and Anakin high-fiving.

Professor Palpatine shakes his head, disgusted by the outward display of the beginning of something sweet, and returns to grading the papers.


End file.
